Children Dearest
by Cesium Amber
Summary: Sequel to Word for Word. Drabble series up to a point. Explore the bonding and aggravation that comes with raising four children! Despite the annoyance, it's impossible to hate a child, even if they originally weren't your own. Slight Apritello later, Turtle Tots, eventual SofoSlash, past-tense HamaTang. REWRITE! The main concept is still in place, just later on, okay?


Children Dearest

**AN: Hey, .NET! CCA here, now under the name Cesium Amber! Here is one of the rewrites I promised, for my TMNT story. I rewrote this first because it's my most accepted and liked story. I will soon start another origin series surrounding Sonic and his allies, called the CesiFanon Chronicles, or anything better I can come up with. For this time around, I've actually decided to make this a drabble series until they meet their mother, so more Turtle Tots for you! In between, I'll do my AatB drabbles, new stories, and put TriP up for adoption, okay? My TriP plot bunny died TT_TT RIP, TriP…**

**Sonic: Hey, that was MY story!**

**Well, ex-CUUUSE ME if I can't take care of my plot bunnies!**

**Anyways, this came from a bit of an idea that Splinter's naming the turtles was only technical. I wanted this to be as body-jellyfyingly adorable as possible, so I decided to add kid name confusion into this. It makes sense, as they don't have real names yet, so… Sonic, the disclaimer, please?**

**Sonic: Cesium owns nothing but the overall concept of this story and the specific logic behind this chapter. Everything else belongs to Peter Laird, Viacom, and Nickelodeon.**

**Thanks. Now on with the story!**

**~~~~~~~ChilD~~~~~~~**

The Painter Game

Hamato Yoshi had been a man until three months ago. He had been exiled, traumatized, and alone. Now, however, the lattermost is no longer true, although the median was still true, and the former was even truer than before. Oh, Hamato Yoshi was indeed far from alone. With him lived four children, all quadruplets, and although their exterior appearances weren't exactly conventional, they were still quite clearly children. At times, the best way to tell them apart was by little, easily-noticed differences and skin tones.

The eldest had epicanthic, blue-grey eyes with flecks of blue-violet and the second-darkest skin tone of his brothers. The youngest, in some contrast, had epicanthic eyes as well — although they were nearly too round to be almond-shaped — of a luminescent, sky-colored hue, the rosiest complexion of the four, and he was covered almost literally head-to-toe with freckles. The second youngest had almost-triangular red eyes with brown latticing around the pupil, the palest skin of the quartet, and a gap in his teeth that showed clearly whenever he grinned. The second eldest had angular, acidic emerald eyes, the darkest skin of them all, and a chip missing out of the left-hand side of his plastron.

Yes, plastron. As in a shell. As in the fact that they were freaking _turtles_. And before you ask, no Hamato Yoshi wasn't a turtle, too. He was a rat. They weren't all your textbook turtles and rat either. They were far too human, genetically AND physically, to be completely normal. How, you ask? Does the word _mutant _mean anything to you? Yes, Hamato Yoshi and his four turtle charges were mutants.

Yoshi had come up with nicknames, however unoriginal or terrible (he wasn't too good with naming things; Tang Shen had named Miwa) for the young turtles based on their appearances and personalities.

The eldest was called Mini because he liked to imitate Yoshi himself and follow him around; he'd once caught his shadow keeping his closest-aged brother from attempting to hit the youngest (this had, of course, devolved into a vigorous wrestling match between the elder two). The second eldest he had nicknamed Chip initially for his namesake, the chip in his shell; he'd later on shown just how big of a chip on his shoulder he had, and the short-fused temper to match. The third eldest and second youngest was entitled Brain because he had displayed an analytical interest in anything and everything he set his geometric eyes on. The youngest was dubbed Sunny simply because of his bubbly personality and bright disposition on life; Yoshi often found the child relentlessly attempting to get his brothers to smile or laugh, usually resulting in Chip hitting Sunny, though the latter had the most luck with Brain.

In the duration of their time together, the children had all learned how to talk near-fluently in English and picked up on whatever Japanese he had spoken in their presence, to Yoshi's surprise; Chip had taken the longest due to sheer stubbornness and some sort of irrational resistance he had against humans. As far as he could tell, they were around the same age Miwa had been when… Yoshi shut down the train of thought whenever it came up. It only made it hurt more when he thought of it.

Over the past month or so, Yoshi had been emptying out the apartment he'd had as a human, bringing down supplies and mementoes. As of the past week, he'd been bringing in mere trinkets and, as of today, the contents of his weapon stache that he'd brought from Japan. He hadn't had a chance to unpack before his mutation, so everything was still in their boxes.

He set down the wooden box of heirloom katanas, sai, kusarigama, and kame. On top of the straw-and-metal-filled crate, sat a simple cardboard box, dusty and slightly grayed from sitting untouched since he had come from Japan. With shaking hands, he hesitantly opened the box for the first time in almost three months and picked up a black-and-white photograph in an antique frame. In the photograph, grinned his darling Tang Shen holding a swathed, three-month-old Miwa and standing next to a bright-eyed, solemn-faced Yoshi from when he had been human. This had been taken almost a year before his former friend, Oroku Saki had — _no. Stop. Don't think about it. It's still too fresh._ He rested the picture back in the box and closed it back up, dust floating off in a cloud from being ousted from its roost. Wanting to think about anything but what had brought him here, he looked once more around their current home.

It was a large, cavernous room, with plenty of space for the boys to run around and play; at one point, it had been a train station, as the broken white and red turnstiles behind him indicated. Behind a wall of tempered glass in heavy, black oak frames was an old food court. In the middle, a sapling grew tenaciously through the slightly rotted hardwood floor that he had covered with rugs he'd gotten, all of it given a heavenly sort of appearance because of the sun shining through the overhead skylight. In the back of the repurposed café was the serving counter, long since dissected and emptied. Last week, he had used his decorative paper walls to sanction off the area for his own room. This dojo he had made was higher-set than the rest of the room, a three-foot ledge before a pool of water.

Five feet from this was an eight-by-eight foot depression in the floor, with a wooden ledge around the inside to act as a bench for any passengers waiting for their trains. To the left of this was a rectangular alcove, large enough for two doors to fit into the back wall and one door to each inner wall. These led to the boy's rooms, or rather, their rooms for when they were old enough. They all still slept in a pile in the middle of the depression in the floor. In the five-foot allowance between the pool and the inset waiting area, the wall held a garage door. Yoshi didn't know why it was there, but he didn't question the motives of the builders. That door led to a room about half the size of the main room, with tables built into the floor and abandoned tinkering projects left behind by their previous owner.

Brain had claimed this room, and he would use it judging by his already-impressive intelligence.

In the ceiling, Yoshi had found another room, maybe originally part of the main station (it had clearly been walled off) with kitchen counters set into one side and the center, outfitted with appliances that, albeit, didn't work, and pantries. Other than the broken appliances, it was in good condition, all of it being a warm yellow-green color. He had managed to build a stable walkway out of wooden planks from his crates and any others he found in a winding shape, corkscrewing straight into the adjoining upper room.

It was a work in progress, but it was home now. He'd make the best of it. The children certainly didn't mind, as they had possibly already forgotten the pet shop they had spent scant minutes in after their birth.

Speaking of the children, Yoshi decided to listen in on one of the children's conversations.

In the depression, all four turtles sat, captivated by something Brain had. Chip didn't seem all too interested, but Yoshi could tell he was still curious. Sunny was constantly distracted, twitching whenever Mini took the initiative to pull his brother into a sitting position, then leaping back up to balance-beam on the benches, then he would poke Chip, it would go on and on.

Mini constantly looked over Brain's shoulder, pointing and asking questions on occasion. Brain was enamored with whatever he had, reading it aloud and eagerly answering Mini's questions. This is what Yoshi heard when he eavesdropped:

"An' whozzat?"

"That's Donnie-tell-no. He made a cool statue of a guy on a horse called the Got-omelet-a!"

"Why'd they name it after eggs?"

"I dunno why, maybe they was hungry when they was naming the things."

Yoshi chuckled at their naiveté. So they were reading his book on Renaissance artists. Sunny was currently sitting right next to Chip, occasionally reaching for his brother's face in an assumed attempt at pushing the corners of his mouth up. Every time, Sunny got his hands slapped and he shrank away from his big brother, only to try again mere seconds later.

Suddenly, Sunny leaped to his feet. "I gotsa idea!" he announced, prompting his siblings to look at him expectantly. With a smug little smirk, he proclaimed, "Less play a game 'bout th' pain-ers in the book! I'll call it… The Pain-er Game!"

Chip scoffed and rolled his eyes, Brain looked intrigued, and Mini seemed curious. "What are the rules?" Mini asked. "Uhhh… Oh! Nobody can be th' same pain-er, you hafta make what your pain-er guy made, and… you have to say what pain-er you are and what ev'rybody knows ya for makin'!" Sunny informed after several moments of consideration. "I'll play wif ya, then." Mini agreed. "I'll help ya pick your pain-ers." Brain offered. "I guess I'll play 'cause I dun wanna be playing on my own." Chip finally decided begrudgingly.

All four sat around the battered, hardcover book as gazed intently as Brain leafed through it gingerly. "Wait, stop!" Sunny cried after a few pages, pointing at the name of whichever artist he'd taken interest in. "Whozzat?" he inquired, excited curiosity in his voice. Brain read the page.

"Mikey-angel. It says here he pain-ed th' Sis… th' Sis-teen Chappie."

A grin practically split Sunny's face in two, face almost glowing as he clambered to his feet. His brothers stared at him expectantly, curious about his actions. "I'm Mikey-angel!" the tiny turtle announced mirthfully. "An' I pain-ed th' Sissy Chapstick!"

Yoshi snorted quietly, finding the youth's slip-up amusing. Sunny ran off, looking around for any crayons and whatever materials he needed to fulfil his own ultimatum. Losing interest, the other three returned to their artist search. By now, Yoshi had sat down onto the nearest section of bench in the pit to watch them. As the youths looked through, Sunny dragged an empty cardboard box into the pit, climbed inside, and started coloring on the ceiling of the box.

Mini gently took the book from Brain and flipped back to near the front, turning pages until he found the page of his desired artist. "How 'bout this guy?" he politely inquired, and Brain read aloud once more. "This guy's Lemonade-o. He made tons of stuff, but lotsa people like his Money Lizzie."

"Then, I'm Leo-nado 'n' I pain-ed th' Monty Lisa!"

The new 'Leonardo' got up to retrieve his own supplies. Brain and Chip continued on his own. "I know I wanna be Donnie-tell-no." Brain mused aloud. "The Got-omelet-a sounds fun to make."

"What 'bout me?!" Chip grouched, glaring vengefully at his younger brother. "Mikey-belly?" Brain offered. "He made a book."

Scowl.

"Raph-yell?"

"He didn't make nothin'! That's stupid!"

"He did so make somethin'!"

"'Donatello' is correct." Yoshi interjected himself, referring to Brain by the name of his chosen artist as to make their game more immersive. "Raphael is most famous for his painting _The School of Athens._"

A low, near-feral growl emitted from the emerald-eyed turtle, and Yoshi raised an eyebrow at the insubordinance. "I thought you were playing with your brothers?"

Another growl, then Yoshi heard the hot blooded turtle spit out, "Fine. I'm Raph-hi-yell 'n' I pain-ed a school. Happy?"

And the two set off to work on their game.

There were several occasions where Chip kept trying to take Mini and Sunny's crayons, presumably deliberately in protest of his artist.

Hours later, all four children were done. On the sides of Sunny's box, Mini and Chip had erected their 'paintings' to display them. "You have all done very well." Yoshi complimented them, pretending to be an art critic at Sunny's puppy-eyed request (although Yoshi wouldn't have said no anyways, the puppy-dog eyes had helped the freckled turtle's case). The children moved on to new activities, satisfied with their answer. Sunny stared at Brain, then to Yoshi, all with curiosity in his eyes, then moved on with his day.

The next day, Sunny was unusually contemplative for several hours. Yoshi had ventured over to his youngest adoptive son after midday. "What is wrong?" he asked softly, kneeling down to the child's level. "Thinkin' of names." Was all the lime green child said, eyes pensively glazed over. "Names?" Yoshi echoed, confused. "For what?"

"Fer us." Was the distant reply. Suddenly, Sunny's eyes lit up and he jumped to his feet, so reminiscent of the previous day. "I know!" he burst out, then rushed off to gather his brothers. He first bolted for Brain, who was playing with building blocks in the pit. "Hey, I jus' got a idea for names for us! You wanna know what your name is?" the freckled turtle bubbled out, causing his gap-toothed brother to look at him with annoyed curiosity. "'S not Brain, is it?" Brain asked flatly, and Sunny shook his head so fast, Yoshi worried that he would give himself whiplash. "Yes'day, you were Donnie-tell-no fer th' Pain-er Game, 'member?" the enthusiastic child began. "So?" deadpanned his sibling, not truly caring. "Well, I heard Daddy call ya Donnie-tell-no when he said you were right 'bout Raph-yell." he continued with a near-manic grin on his face. Yoshi hadn't known Sunny had been listening in on that. "So we could have th' same names as th' pain-ers we were!"

It was an excellent idea, far better than naming them based on superficial things as Yoshi mentally had.

"I think that is a fantastic idea." Yoshi reassured, delighting the youngest of his sons. "PLEEEEEAAAAAASE?" the befreckled turtle implored his older brother, his efforts redoubled from Yoshi's encouragement. "That sounds okay. Will th' others like it?" Brain, now officially Donatello, agreed. Sunny, now Michelangelo, went to his older brothers to peddle his idea.

Mini loved the idea, taking to the name Leonardo fervorously.

Chip didn't like it so much.

And by 'not so much', I mean that he of course hated it with a burning passion.

"No way! I HATE Raph-hi-yell!" Chip yelled at Michelangelo, who whimpered and pulled his head slightly into his shell. "Raphael." Yoshi scorned, pointedly using the name Michelangelo wanted his brother to use. The irritated turtle glared up at Yoshi, who sternly glared back. "Your younger brother is trying to make it easier to refer to you by giving you an option of a name. You should appreciate his kindness by accepting the name."

After pouting for a few moments, the newly-named Raphael finally accepted the name.

Their names most certainly fit them.

Michelangelo meant Michael the Angel, and at times the boy bearing the name was certainly comparable to an angel both in manner and in appearance, though he could be quite mischievous. Leonardo meant as brave as a lion or lion-hearted, and the child names as such certainly had the potential to be a be a courageous and wise leader in the future. Donatello had the meaning gift or gift from God, which he certainly had with that brain of his. Raphael means God heals, which fit as he was often the first to act worried if one of his siblings were injured.

Yoshi was certain they would live up to their names in the highest regard. He would ensure it by being there for them every step of the way.


End file.
